


From Qingdao, with love

by myenduringheart



Category: EXO (Band), Z.Tao (Musician)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-05 22:25:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6725890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myenduringheart/pseuds/myenduringheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zitao knows that relationships change over time, but he never expected his relationship with Joonmyun to change like <i>this</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2016 round of [Taobei](http://taobeis.livejournal.com/).

"Is that the time?!" Zitao exclaims, shooting up from his chair as soon as he noticed the time. "I need to go!" 

"What? Already? Can't we finish working on the chorus?" Jongdae asks, watching in amused disbelief as Zitao starts to stuff his belongings haphazardly into his bag.

"Hyung," Zitao whines, "I _really_ need to go. We'll pick it up tomorrow"

"You're calling me hyung - it must be important," Jongdae remarks dryly, to which Zitao gives him a pout. "Fine, fine - go. Where're you off to?"

"Joonmyun's --" Zitao pauses when he knocks a pen off the table, ducking down to pick it up. " -- coming home early tonight."

Even from under the table, Zitao can hear the smirk in Jongdae's voice. "Oh. I see. Going home for a sexy night in with the husband." 

Zitao swats at Jongdae's shin before coming back up. "Not like _that_. We've just barely seen each other lately." Zitao knows that he sounds a bit defensive, but there's a reason for it. They haven't been spending much time together, and it hasn't just been lately. Between Joonmyun's long hours at the office and Zitao's own work commitments, sometimes it feels a bit like they're just two people who live together - as if they're roommates and not a couple. Zitao's dying for some quality time with his _husband_. 

Jongdae only teases him a little more before he lets him go, making Zitao promise that they'll meet slightly earlier tomorrow to make up for the time, and Zitao practically skips out, looking forward to his night already. 

 

*

 

Eight years ago, the last thing Zitao had wanted was a long term relationship. 

He'd just moved to the country and had no desire to settle down, content to meet new people and have some lighthearted fun, not knowing how long he was going to stay. 

And then he met Joonmyun. 

From the moment they were introduced, at a house party hosted by a friend of a friend, Zitao had been charmed by his classic good looks, his earnest sweetness and self deprecating humour. Somehow they managed to talk for hours, squashed against one another on a lumpy couch, despite Zitao's slow Korean and Joonmyun's practically non-existent Mandarin.

Joonmyun wasn't the only one surprised when Zitao agreed to see him again. 

Their first date had been littered with cliches - as if Joonmyun had looked for a guide and steadfastly followed each point. Joonmyun picked him up, gave him flowers, booked a table at a fancy restaurant. It had been as Zitao frowned at the menu, not understanding anything as it was all written in French, that Joonmyun had laughed awkwardly, saying, "This is terrible, isn't it?"

If it hadn't been for that, if things had progressed as Joonmyun had planned, Zitao would probably have never seen him again. But instead, in response to Joonmyun's question, Zitao responded, "Yes, this is awful. Want to get out of here?"

Rather than sitting in a stuffy restaurant trading awkward conversation, Zitao led Joonmyun to the river. They ate searingly hot hotteok, purchased from a nearby vendor, and as they leaned against the river railing, Zitao told Joonmyun about Qingdao, his hometown that was surrounded by the sea on three sides and that had given him his love for the ocean. 

Their first kiss had been there, by the water, Joonmyun's lips sticky and sweet from the hotteok. From that moment, Zitao was gone - deeply, hopelessly fallen. A couple of years later it was also where Zitao impulsively proposed. He didn't have a ring, didn't have a plan, refused to get down on one knee, all he knew was that he _loved_ this man and they were going to spend the rest of their lives together, happily so. 

 

*

 

Of course, life doesn't always go to plan. 

 

*

 

It's nearly 9pm when Joonmyun finally answers his phone, hours after Zitao expected him home. 

"Where ARE you?" Zitao exclaims, doing his best to hold back his frustration. "I thought you were finishing on time today." He doesn't add that he's been waiting for hours and that he was really looking forward to seeing his husband, to eating a meal together at least one night this week. 

There's a lot of background noise and then some muffled apologies. "...and Amber signed a client today. It's her first since she started, so we went out to celebrate." Zitao manages to catch the end as the noise lessens, and he assumes that Joonmyun walked outside of wherever he had been. "I'm sorry, I thought I sent you a message…"

"Well you didn't," Zitao snaps, tipping what was meant to be their dinner into the trash. It had dried up in the wait and even if it was edible he's too angry and frustrated to eat. He takes a couple of deep breaths, closing his eyes as he pinches the bridge of his nose, waiting out Joonmyun's _"I'm sorry, I thought I did, I'll be home soon"_ , his voice indistinct and distant. Zitao lies to himself and pretends that it's a problem with the phone line. "Fine, see you later," he says, aiming for calm and probably veering far off course. "Tell Amber-noona I said congratulations. Love you." 

"Love you," Joonmyun parrots, and Zitao isn't sure if he imagines it but it sounds cursory, and not at all genuine. 

It's late by the time Joonmyun finally arrives home. Zitao had fallen asleep, but wakes up when he hears the shower of their ensuite start. He groans and flips over, burying his face into his pillow. He's not angry anymore. After he got off the phone he went to the gym, desperate to work off his frustration, and now he's just left with a deep, bone weary disappointment. 

The bed dips when Joonmyun gets in. He presses a light kiss between Zitao's shoulder blades. "Are you awake?" he whispers. 

Zitao is tempted to pretend he's still asleep but words slip out before he can stop them. "I am now."

"Sorry." Joonmyun wraps an arm around his waist, snuggling closer, but Zitao doesn't move or acknowledge him further. He doesn't want his apologies - he's heard them too many times, has been disappointed too many times. Joonmyun lets out a little sigh, so tiny Zitao thinks he's imagined it, before he removes his arm and rolls over, returning to his side of the bed. 

It takes a long time for Zitao to fall back asleep.

 

* 

 

Zitao has been ignoring it for a long time - the signs that Joonmyun has lost interest in their relationship, in him. Sometimes you blind yourself to the truth because it hurts too much to see. 

When did they become like this? When did they stop being the couple who couldn't keep their hands off one another to being _this_? 

It wasn't when they were married - in two simple ceremonies - one in Korea and one in Qingdao. It wasn't when they bought their first apartment together, when they spent evenings and weekends renovating it to a liveable state, painting and cleaning and somehow - despite the lack of DIY experience - installing a new kitchen that still, to this day, has a drawer that doesn't close properly. It wasn't when they finally moved in, spending an entire weekend practically cocooned in their bed, watching animated movies and having lazy sex. It wasn't the holidays they took together, mostly to the beach, where Joonmyun stuck firmly in the shade watching in amusement behind sunglasses as Zitao frolicked happily in the water. 

No, it wasn't any of that. But maybe… maybe it was when their careers finally started taking off - when Zitao met Jongdae who helped him get his job as an in house music producer, when Joonmyun started his own digital media marketing company, when their usual nights home on the couch watching the latest dramas were replaced by work. Maybe it was when Zitao's grandmother passed away, and Joonmyun couldn't spare the time to return to Qingdao with him, and Zitao spent an entire week alone - the longest they'd been apart since they were married. Maybe it was their different set of friends, maybe it was their different non-work commitments - basketball for Zitao and Mandarin lessons for Joonmyun. Maybe it was the fact that they were two independent people who loved each other fiercely but didn't need one another. 

Or perhaps it was something smaller: thousands and thousands of tiny pin pricks, little disappointments, building up over the years, that sucked away all the passion, the excitement, the longing, so slowly that Zitao didn't notice until now. 

 

*

 

Sehun frowns as Zitao prods at his noodles with his chopsticks. They're at a 24-hour ramen joint, one they usually visit after their weekly social basketball game. "Maybe… you're just overreacting?" he says hesitantly. Zitao doesn't blame him for looking a little overwhelmed - a simple, innocent question about why Zitao hadn't played well tonight had lead to Zitao confessing the whole story. 

"I don't think so," Zitao tells him, although he's not surprised Sehun thinks so. It's the first time Zitao has confided in him, the first time he's heard that things aren't going well. "It's been going on for ages." Zitao pushes his bowl away, not sure he can stomach anything with the way he's feeling. 

"Maybe you just need to spend more time together - reconnect. When was the last time you went away together?" 

The last time was a trip back to China, when Zitao's childhood friend Chenchen got married and Zitao returned to be his best man. It should've been a great vacation, except Joonmyun spent most of the time on his computer or phone, unable - or unwilling - to take a proper break. Joonmyun is hardworking and ambitious - it's one of the things that Zitao loves about him, particularly as he's that way himself - and he's built up his own company from something that consisted of him working in their spare room, to something that has several employees and an office downtown. But there's a line, isn't there? 

Zitao had seethed for days, finally blowing up on their way to the airport, frightening their taxi driver until Joonmyun quickly shushed him, stroking the back of his neck placatingly. Patronisingly. 

It's not a good memory.

"I'm not sure a holiday is going to solve anything," Zitao mutters. "Not even if he could spare the time." 

"Well… have you told him this? Does he know?"

Zitao huffs. He's _tried_. What is he supposed to say anyway? Is he supposed to tell his husband, someone that he lives with, that he misses him? Isn't that ridiculous? Isn't it ridiculous to have to tell him that he feels less and less like a priority in his life, like he's at the bottom of a very long list? For someone who used to be so attuned to Zitao's emotions, he's been deaf and blind for months. "I think… I'm just not important anymore."

Sehun screws up his nose as he sets down his chopsticks and wipes his mouth. "You should talk to him, not me. How can he fix things if he doesn't know there's anything wrong?"

 

*

 

"Babe?" Zitao says tentatively the next morning, watching as Joonmyun dresses at the foot of their bed. 

"You're awake," Joonmyun says, smiling, fingers deftly doing up his buttons. He's so handsome, his hair still slightly damp but neatly parted, and his cheeks pink. "It's not like you." 

Zitao isn't a morning person, and is fortunate to have a career where his working hours are mostly flexible. He's often still asleep by the time Joonmyun leaves for work. But he hasn't been sleeping well lately. 

Zitao worries at his lower lip. "Are we okay?" he asks, his conversation with Sehun the night before still on his mind. 

"What do you mean? Of course we are." He takes a few steps towards Zitao's side of the bed, leaning down to give him a brief kiss. Once upon a time, Zitao would've pulled him in, turned it deeper, until he'd had Joonmyun sprawled on top of him as he worked to undo the shirt he'd just put on. But these days he just lets him go. 

"What time do you think you'll be home tonight?"

Joonmyun hums thoughtfully, going to the closet and picking out a tie. "I'm not sure. Probably not too late."

"Right." Zitao curls his legs up under the covers, shrinks himself so the blankets are tucked around his face. "Want to do something this weekend? We haven't had a date in ages." He keeps his tone casual, but he's holding his breath, not wanting to get his hopes up, almost sure that Joonmyun will tell him he's busy. 

But Joonmyun smiles at him, that fond one where his eyes turn into crescents, saying, "Sure. Sounds good." 

Zitao exhales, the edges of his lips curling up. "Great. I'll book a restaurant." 

"Perfect." Joonmyun drops a kiss on his head. "Have a good day."

 

*

 

Zitao ends up working on Saturday, sitting in on an album recording with Jongdae for an artist who's flown in from overseas. He makes a restaurant booking for Sunday night, not even sure if he'll be able to make it, but fortunately they tie up the recording in the early hours of Sunday morning. He'd wanted to spend the entire day with Joonmyun but unfortunately that's out the window, and he spends most of the daylight hours asleep, only stirring when his alarm goes off, indicating that he needs to get ready for their date. 

When he trods heavily out into the living room, groggy and red eyed, still in his pyjamas, Joonmyun looks up from his phone. "Do you want to stay in bed? We can go out some other time." 

But Zitao is stubborn. "No," he says mulishly, even as a yawn has his eyes tearing up, "I want to go."

Maybe it's because Zitao is so tired, but the whole evening feels weird. Their conversation is stilted, and even though it's Zitao's favourite restaurant, he picks at his food as he tries to fill the awkward silence. He's sure he's babbling, embarrassing himself, and although across the table Joonmyun is humming in response, smiling at him distantly, it's _odd_. It's like they're strangers, two people who barely know each other's interests, and not two people who've been married for almost six years. 

Eventually he stops, exhausted with his efforts, turning down the waiter's offer to show them the dessert menu without consulting Joonmyun. 

Zitao normally loves sweet things, always insisting they eat dessert to close out a meal, so maybe it's a measure of how far apart they've grown that Joonmyun doesn't even comment on it. They walk home, Zitao wrapping his arms around himself to protect himself from the chill in the night air. 

Once upon a time, they would've walked home pressed together, arms looped around each others' waists, obnoxiously taking up too much space on the footpath. 

They don't talk, Joonmyun staring at his phone and muttering a little, almost walking into a lamppost until Zitao grabs his elbow gently to steer him clear. 

When they arrive home, Zitao heads straight for the bedroom, stripping off his clothes as he walks and tossing them aside. Normally Joonmyun is the messy one, Zitao picking his stuff up after him and jokingly scolding him. It was something they used to laugh about, but they don't seem to laugh much about anything anymore. They can't even go out for dinner and act like a normal couple. 

Zitao crawls into bed, pulls the covers over his head and curls up on his side. He's so _tired_. Relationships change over time and Zitao knows this, but he never expected their relationship to change like this.

"You ok?" Joonmyun asks softly, stroking down the line of Zitao's back. "You don't seem yourself tonight." 

_So you noticed,_ Zitao thinks bitterly, biting his lip to stop himself from saying something he might regret. "Yeah. No," he says instead, confusingly, and he can feel Joonmyun shift behind him as he gets into bed properly. 

"Do you want to talk?" 

"I just --" Zitao flips himself to face him. "I just really miss you." 

Joonmyun lets out a short laugh. "What do you mean? I'm right here." He kisses the tip of Zitao's nose. "I'm here." 

Zitao just looks at him, wide-eyed. He seems genuine and that's the part that makes Zitao scared. Does he truly believe that nothing's wrong? This fear in his heart, the one that's telling him there's something wrong, does Joonmyun really not feel it too? He doesn't ask. Zitao has often been told that for someone with so many emotions, he's terrible at talking about them, and that's certainly true right now. Instead he leans forward, capturing Joonmyun's mouth with his, trying to put into the kiss all the things he doesn't know how to say: _I love you, please don't stop loving me, sometimes I'm so afraid_.

Joonmyun's kisses are so familiar and Zitao pretends that it feels the same, pretends that he doesn't have tears prickling behind his eyes, allows himself to be maneuvered on to his back with Joonmyun hovering above him. 

"Are you too tired?" Joonmyun asks when they pause to take a breath, stopping Zitao's hands tugging at the buttons on his shirt. 

"No. No. I want you. Please." 

Joonmyun lets out a breath, eyes dark, and this time he doesn't stop Zitao from unbuttoning his shirt. He's stunning, the most beautiful man that Zitao has ever seen. Zitao loves him so much, wants him more than he's ever wanted anyone, even after all this time. 

It's been awhile since the last time they were intimate and Joonmyun ends up lying half off the bed, in between the crook of Zitao's legs, stretching him carefully and slowly as he presses kisses to the inner part of Zitao's thigh to distract him. 

"I'm ready, c'mon," Zitao whines, even as Joonmyun has only barely worked in three fingers. He's not prepared enough but Zitao doesn't care. He's impatient, needing something that has nothing to do with desire. He's not even really aroused, and he can see Joonmyun frown up at him, but he doesn't respond verbally, instead continuing to finger him, rubbing lightly over his prostate over and over, until Zitao is fully hard and moaning for him. 

Joonmyun knows exactly what to do to turn him on, to make him breathless with lust, to bring him to the edge so easily. He kisses his way up Zitao's body and Zitao reaches for him, wants him closer, pulls him up so he can kiss him, almost desperately. 

"Slow down, what's the hurry?" Joonmyun asks into his mouth and Zitao can't explain it - that feeling, the overwhelming feeling that he needs this _now_ before it disappears. He wraps a leg around Joonmyun's waist instead of replying, grinding their bodies together, a wordless plea for more. "Okay, okay," Joonmyun says when Zitao reaches down, wrapping his hand around Joonmyun's cock, trying to position it against his entrance. "Let me."

Zitao's head falls back when Joonmyun pushes in, tortuously slow, feeling himself open up around the girth of his erection. 

"Okay?" he's asked, Joonmyun pressing a kiss to his lips and Zitao clenches around in response, drawing out a low hiss.

" _Please_."

Joonmyun fucks him slowly, tenderly, moving into him in a familiar rhythm as Zitao bucks up to meet him, drawing his nails down the line of Joonmyun's back. All of Joonmyun's attention is solely on him, murmured praises into his skin, light kisses on his cheeks and eyelids, and Zitao is giddy with it, everything narrowed down to the two of them, in this room, together. 

And then Joonmyun's phone, set on his bedside table, rings, shrill and loud. Joonmyun pauses mid-thrust. 

"Don't answer it," Zitao says, pleads, and Joonmyun scoffs at him.

"Of course I'm not going to!"

They continue on, although he seems a little distracted, until Zitao cups his face, brushes over his cheekbone with his thumb, tells him how much he loves him. It takes a while to get their rhythm going again, but soon Zitao starts to feel that familiar fluttering, the pleasure beginning to build. 

And then. Joonmyun's phone rings again. 

"I'm not going to answer it!" Joonmyun tells him, even before he says anything, and it feels like an eternity before the voicemail cuts in and there's silence.

After two interruptions, Zitao's mood is shot and he just wants to finish so it can be over. Thankfully there's no more calls, although it seems to take an age until Joonmyun's pace starts to falter, an indication that he's close, until he's coming inside Zitao's ass with a bitten off moan.

He reaches down to tug at Zitao's cock, jerking him off quickly, and Zitao tries to clear his mind and just focus on the sensations. Even so, his orgasm is laboured, unsatisfying, as he comes over Joonmyun's hand, and his main feeling is relief that it's done, as if it were a chore. 

Joonmyun gives him a moment to catch his breath and then gives him a peck on the lips, rolling off him. "I'll be right back."

Ostensibly he's off to get a washcloth, but Zitao can't help but notice that he grabs his phone on the way to the bathroom. Sure enough, after a minute, Zitao hears the low murmur through the wall that indicates he's on a phone call.

Zitao lies there, quietly seething. It hasn't even been FIVE minutes since they were fucking and he's already on the phone? It's confirmed when Joonmyun leaves the bathroom, phone to his ear and a damp cloth in his other hand. 

"Could you not?" Zitao says loudly, and he's so annoyed that he doesn't care if anyone else can hear it. "Your come is still inside me!" 

Joonmyun's eyes widen, before they narrow into a glare. He quickly finishes his conversation and hangs up. "Zitao! That was a really important call!"

That's the problem though, isn't it? They're all important - except for Zitao. All the calls, the messages, the emails, the meetings that Joonmyun needs to deal with, they're all so important that it leaves no space for Zitao. He can't even have thirty uninterrupted minutes. 

"So?!" Zitao shoots back. "Are you saying it's more important than me?"

"That's not --" Joonmyun groans, hand coming up to tug at his hair. "I never said that - what's wrong with you right now? Why are you being so childish?" 

Zitao visibly jerks back as if it was a physical strike. That's a low blow. All his life people have accused Zitao of being childish and immature, have used it as an insult and as a way to dismiss him and his feelings - as if they're not worth anything just because he doesn't keep a tight lid on his emotions. While he's learned not to let it bother him when it comes from strangers, Joonmyun should know better - he knows that Zitao is sensitive about it, and yet here he is - yet again - essentially telling him that he doesn't matter. 

Zitao's anger boils over until he's shouting, and Joonmyun is shouting back, and then the phone rings YET AGAIN. Zitao wants to scream. Because of course, rather than ignore it, since they're currently in the middle of something, Joonmyun stalks out of their room to answer it.

In return, Zitao jumps off the bed, stamping to the bathroom where he slams the door so hard the entire apartment rattles, knowing that it will piss Joonmyun off even further. 

Sometimes love is knowing exactly how to hurt each other the most.

 

*

 

"Considering how crap you played tonight, I'm guessing you haven't made up with Joonmyun-hyung," Sehun remarks as they're getting changed after basketball. He sounds harsh, but he's quickly apologetic when he sees Zitao flinch at his words. "Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to --"

"It's okay," Zitao mutters. They're the last in the changing room because he's been so slow with showering and getting dressed. "You're right." Although Sehun doesn't know about the fight they'd had the other night, he's correct. They haven't made up, and the small amount of time they've spent in each other's presence has been filled with tension. Neither of them seem able to broach the distance, or perhaps they're just both too proud and stubborn to make the first move. 

Zitao's _tired_ of it. He finishes lacing up his shoes, then glances up at Sehun. "Do you mind if I skip dinner tonight? I'm not really feeling up to it." 

Sehun's immediately agreeable. "No problem, of course. I understand." Then he adds, "Hey, if you need anything, you know -- I'm -- ahh…"

Zitao interrupts, letting him off the hook. "I know. Thanks." Sehun gives him a grateful smile, patting him on the back as he leaves.

Zitao walks home, bag slung over his shoulder, and hands buried in his pockets. He's listening to the first cut of a song that he'd been working on with Jongdae, and he's deep in thought about it, doing his best not to think about Joonmyun. He won't be home anyway, he never is, but tonight Zitao is glad for that and is looking forward to being by himself. 

The music in his headphones is blaringly loud as he punches in his keycode, blocking out everything else. Even with that, as soon as he steps into the apartment he immediately notices an extra pair of shoes by the door. And when he rounds the corner into the living room, he finds Joonmyun and another man sitting on the couch, half empty wine glasses on the coffee table in front of them.

Zitao frowns at the look that he saw flash across Joonmyun's face - the one that said: _guilty_. He tugs off his headphones, forcing a smile on his face. "Hi."

Joonmyun makes introductions, but Zitao can't shake the feeling that he's interrupted something, and that feeling intensifies when the other man - Minho - says that he has to leave. Joonmyun walks him to the door, and out of the corner of his eye, Zitao sees him hold out his hand for a handshake while Minho goes in for a hug, watches the subsequent awkwardness afterwards as they both laugh, finally settling on a hug.

Zitao pours himself a glass of water, taking a long drink. "Who was that?" he asks casually once Minho has left, his back turned. He doesn't want to see what Joonmyun looks like when he lies to him.

"An old friend." 

"Uh huh." There's something niggling at the edges of Zitao's memory, something important. "From where? I've never met him before."

"From university. We lost touch for a while after he moved away." 

"Really. So he's just moved back?" 

Joonmyun hums noncommittally and Zitao spins to face him as he recalls where he's heard that name before. "Minho, you said?"

"Uh huh."

"Isn't that your ex?" Zitao does his best but it still comes out like an accusation.

He sees Joonmyun falter as he picks up the wine glasses. "Yeah," he says lightly, but there's a storm already brewing in Zitao's thoughts. 

"Why didn't you tell me that?"

Joonmyun frowns at him in a way that makes Zitao feel like he's the one who's done something wrong. "Because I knew you'd be like _this_."

"Like _this_? Like what exactly?" Zitao asks lowly, but Joonmyun either ignores the warning in his tone or just doesn't care.

"Jumping to conclusions." 

Anger and jealousy flares inside Zitao, the latter emotion something that he rarely feels, normally very secure in his love for Joonmyun and vice versa. But nothing has been normal lately, not in their relationship, and it's unusual for Joonmyun to be this defensive and defecting about someone else. An hour ago, Zitao would've laughed at the thought of Joonmyun being unfaithful, but now that Joonmyun has put it into his head by implying that's what Zitao was thinking, he's not so sure. 

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Zitao growls. "You're making this about ME?"

"It's always about you!" Joonmyun shoots back. "I can't even have a quiet night with a friend without you giving me the third degree." 

Zitao doesn't know whether he should laugh or cry. It's _never_ about him, not anymore, and that's the problem. And the fact that Joonmyun can't see it, or doesn't want to see it, is tearing him apart. He can't do this, he _can't_ , the fight in him disappearing as quickly as it flared up. 

He picks up his bag, heads to the front door, hastily stuffing his feet back into his shoes. He ignores Joonmyun's confused, _"Where the hell are you going?"_ and he walks out, alone. 

Joonmyun doesn't come after him. 

 

*

 

Zitao has often been accused of being someone who's _too much_. Everything he does, he does wholeheartedly and without reserve: wushu, sports, music, friendships, love. 

He almost injured himself permanently due to wushu, left his country and his family to pursue his love of music, treasures his long term friendships so intensely that even thinking about them can bring his admittedly sentimental heart to tears. And love? Zitao only knows one way to love someone, and that's wholly and deeply. He's never been able to hold himself back, particularly when it comes to relationships, has never been able to keep back a part of his heart to protect himself. 

Zitao is sometimes too much, and he knows this, except -- he gives everything that he has. Is that not a fair trade? 

When his first boyfriend, his first love, broke up with him, Zitao had been devastated. Looking back, he should've expected it - he was only a teenager at the time. His boyfriend had been a couple of years older, and as he was leaving for university their relationship had run its course. His boyfriend had been so pragmatic about it, as if Zitao had only had the tiniest hold on his heart. 

It had been his dad who'd consoled him afterwards, who'd reassured him that one day he would find someone who would love him as much as he loved them, someone who would love him the way he deserved. 

With Joonmyun, Zitao thought he'd finally found that. Had been so excited to introduce him to his parents, had been proud when his dad gave his immediate approval. 

Zitao knows from experience that it hurts to love someone more than they love you - it hurts knowing that you would give your all for someone and not have those feelings returned. 

But he's starting to discover that it hurts even more, more than he ever could have thought, to be deeply in love with someone and suspect they no longer feel the same. 

 

*

 

The next morning it's Jongdae who finds him, curled up on the couch in their usual recording studio. Jongdae prods a finger into his ribs, poking him awake, until he cracks an eye open. 

"Did you stay here overnight?" Jongdae asks as Zitao stretches, popping his back and neck. The couch is too small for him, designed for sitting obviously, although they've both used it for naps on evenings where they've had to work late. 

Zitao slings his legs off the couch to make space for Jongdae. Once upright he steals the coffee that Jongdae is holding to take a quick sip, despite Jongdae's protests. "Yeah. I came in to work on a new song," he lies, and Jongdae gives him a sharp look, snatching back his cup, but doesn't call him out on it. 

They work for a couple of hours, and Zitao does his best not to think about the night before. He turned his phone off when he left the apartment and has left it off, not wanting to see if Joonmyun had called or messaged him - afraid that he had. Also afraid that he hadn't.

Just as they're considering taking a break for lunch, their receptionist knocks on the door and pops her head in. 

"Zitao-ssi," she says, her smile bright, "These just arrived for you." In her hands are a bunch of roses, pristine and beautifully wrapped in black paper, which Zitao takes with a sinking heart. 

When he reads the card, the words _I love you_ written on heavy stock, he finds himself angry, almost unbearably so. 

"They've pretty," Jongdae comments, but Zitao doesn't't think so. They're horrible. He hates them. 

"Here." Zitao practically thrusts the flowers at Jongdae, forcing him to take them. "Give them to Liyin-noona. I don't want them." Jongdae seems wary but doesn't protest, as if he senses that Zitao won't accept an argument right now. "I have to make a call," Zitao says, excusing himself. 

Once he's out in the corridor, he starts his phone up. Ignoring the numerous voicemails and messages, he dials Sunyoung's number. 

"Oh hello!" she says brightly when she answers, recognising his voice. Sometimes Zitao feels like he talks to Sunyoung more than he speaks to his husband. "Oppa's in a meeting at the moment."

"I actually called to talk to you."

"Oh?"

"I wanted to say thanks for the flowers."

There's a pause and then she laughs, but it sounds forced. "What flowers?"

"You don't have to pretend - I know you sent them," and Zitao makes sure that he sounds reasonable, and that his voice doesn't betray his feelings. Sunyoung's a _good_ person. "They're beautiful. Thank you. But can I ask you something? Did he ask you to send them?"

There's silence on the line and Zitao waits, not really sure whether he wants to hear the answer, but the long phase is answer enough. "Ahh. Actually… don't answer that. I don't want you to lie to me."

"Oh. I'm sorry," and Zitao can hear it in her voice, exactly how sorry she is. He wonders how much Joonmyun has told her. "I'm not going to lie to you - not exactly... He just said you had a huge fight, and he seemed upset about it, and I thought… he probably would've asked me later… oh I'm _so_ sorry if I overstepped the mark!"

She's such a good person. Intuitive and caring - she's been that way as long as he's known her. Zitao needs to get off the phone before he cries. "Thanks," he says, already feeling the tears prickle but thankful that his voice doesn't crack. "I appreciate the thought."

"Do you want me to pass on a message? I'll let him know that you called?"

"No - don't. It's not necessary. Thanks again." Zitao hangs up, slumping down the wall he's leaning on until he's sitting on the floor, cradling his knees. He shuts his eyes tightly, willing himself not to break down here. 

"Hey." Jongdae's voice is uncharacteristically gentle, and so is the hand on his shoulder. "You okay?"

"No," Zitao admits. "I'm not." He assumes Jongdae heard enough of the call to connect the dots. 

"How did you know about the flowers?"

Zitao rubs his eyes before responding. "He would never send me red roses. I hate them." He can feel the tears welling up again, and part of him feels stupid, even though it's not about the flowers. It's about the fact that Zitao spent the previous night somewhere else, not in their home, and Joonmyun doesn't seem to _care_ enough to send his own damn flowers. 

It's about the fact that Zitao's the only one who seems to recognise that there's something wrong. 

Before he loses his nerve he whispers the truth, the thing that's been staring him in the face demanding to be recognised, "I think my marriage is over." 

"Tao. _Fuck._ I'm sorry." Jongdae sits on the floor besides him, slinging an arm around his shoulders. "Is there anything I can do?"

Zitao doesn't even think that there's anything he can do. What's the point if only one person in the relationship still cares? 

 

*

 

Sehun sits on the edge of the bed and watches as Zitao packs his suitcase. "You sure about this?" he asks. 

"Yup," Zitao says, voice muffled as he rifles through the clothes in his closet, trying to be as fast as possible so they can get out of there. "Thanks for coming." 

Jongdae had let him sit outside the studio feeling sorry for himself for about five minutes before forcing him back to work. Zitao is surprised that he let him have a pity party for so long but he's thankful actually. It helped him take his mind off everything for a couple of hours. After work he called Sehun, who insisted on coming with him to his apartment. Although he's not being very helpful Zitao appreciates the emotional support. 

Sehun falls backwards until he's splayed out on the bed. "I don't know why you're worried. It's not as if he's going to be home early." He flinches when Zitao throws a pair of socks at his head, protesting loudly. "Hey - you said so yourself!"

"You don't have to rub it in," Zitao tells him petulantly, retrieving the socks so he can stuff them into his suitcase. He's packing for China, having made a decision to go home for a while. He needs space to think, to consider what to do next, and he can't do it here, not when there's so many memories of both happy and unhappy times. His parents are expecting him, and although he hasn't told them anything, he knows they're suspicious at his sudden desire to return home. 

"Sorry. Do you really think that he's chea--"

"No," Zitao cuts him off. 

"Have you spoken to him? Does he know you're going to China?"

As Zitao finishes zipping up his suitcase, he tries to wipe the guilty look off his face before he responds. "Not exactly."

There's a long pause, and eventually Sehun says, "Do you think that's fair?"

Not everything in life is fair, Zitao thinks. If it was, he wouldn't feel the need to run home. "I can't talk to him right now," he confesses after a while. "It's too hard." He sets his case upright, ready to wheel it out, taking another quick look around their bedroom to confirm he has everything, even tapping the breast pocket of his jacket to ensure he has his passport. 

Sehun follows as Zitao heads out, the wheels of his case squeaking as he pulls it across the wooden floors. They leave and Zitao shuts the door behind him, not looking back. 

 

*

 

Of course, Zitao is not cruel enough to just drop off the face of the earth, no matter how angry or sad he is at his husband. As he waits in the airport lounge for his flight to Qingdao, he finally turns his phone on. It takes a while to boot, but when it does, it starts up with multiple voicemail and message notifications. He swipes them all away without reading, starting up a new message. 

_i need a break. will be in touch when i'm ready._

There's a horrible ache in his heart and he quickly switches his phone off before he gets a reply. 

The flight is unmemorable. It's only a short flight, and he spends most of it listening to music, eyes closed tightly to ward off any potential conversations from his seatmates. 

His parents are there to greet him when he arrives, and he rushes to them, feeling relief as soon as he sees them. His mum, after he's given them both long hugs, fusses as his dad takes ahold of his suitcase. 

"What are you doing here? Is everything okay? Where's Joonmyun?" she asks, all questions that Zitao doesn't want to answer, until his dad shushes her. 

"He's just arrived," he tells her gently. "Give the boy some space." His mum clicks her tongue at him, but it's good natured, and she links her arm through Zitao's as they walk to the car.

It's nice to be home, but in some ways it's like he's gone back in time. He keeps his phone turned off, resisting the urge to log on to any of his SNS accounts, and sleeping in the bed he grew up in makes him feel like a teenager again. His mother fusses over him, cooking his favourite dishes, and their elderly Maltese, just a puppy when they'd first gotten her, follows him around the house as if he'd never left, insistently curling up in his lap whenever he sits for an extended period of time. 

And even though all his old friends have also grown up, have married and have careers, some even have children, when they meet for dinner at their favourite seafood restaurant - still thriving after all these years - it's like nothing has changed. They fall back into their old jokes and discussions, making Zitao remember what it was like to be single, to only have to think about himself. 

He walks home with Chenchen after dinner, as always in silence, although they have lots to talk about. Chenchen nags him, talking at him in the sign language that they'd developed as kids. Zitao hadn't told his other friends the real reason he'd come back to Qingdao - he hasn't even told his parents yet - but Chenchen manages to draw it out of him. 

_You said marriage was great_ , Chenchen signs. _You said go for it._ There'd been a lot of late night chats before Chenchen's wedding, when Zitao had talked him through his nervousness. He'd been worried about silly things anyway - being tied to one person, not being able to live up to her expectations - and Zitao had walked the line between being chiding and encouraging. 

_It is! And I was right!_

Chenchen gives him a disbelieving look. 

_Yours is good, yes?_ Zitao asks. 

Chenchen shrugs, but Zitao spots the smile on his face. He elbows him in the side, hard enough to make him lose his step but not enough to hurt, and Chenchen laughs in that silent way of his until Zitao starts to laugh too. 

_He's a nice man,_ Chenchen tells him, obviously referring to Joonmyun. _He's good for you._

 _You barely know him. He was busy the whole time he was here,_ Zitao scoffs. 

Chenchen gives him a long look, signing, _I have eyes. I could see the way he treats you, looks at you._

_Things change._

Chenchen shakes his head, adamant. _Not always._

Zitao doesn't respond to that, instead kicking at a small pile of leaves on the side of the footpath as they walk, huffing quietly to himself. What would Chenchen know? He's probably still in the honeymoon phase. He and Joonmyun were both like that once - starry eyed and gooey about one another. That's long gone now.

After walking Chenchen to his house, declining the offer to come inside, Zitao continues on his way home. Everything in this city is achingly familiar, the streets, the faint smell of the ocean lingering in the air, groups of people all taking in his native language, and yet - it's not home anymore. He's been trying not to think about it, has been keeping himself busy pestering his mum and dad, spending time with his friends, taking Candy for walks, but he _misses_ Joonmyun, misses the life they had before everything went wrong.

He misses his face, his smile, that unique scent of his that half comes from the brand of body wash he refuses to change. Misses his dumb jokes and the silly things he does - did - to make Zitao laugh, misses the way he sleeps, all curled up and yet somehow managing to take up the bulk of the bed. 

But you can't go backwards, can you? No matter how much you long for time to reverse, the earth keeps spinning on its axis, stars burn and die, and sometimes - so do relationships.

The good mood he'd had when he said goodbye to his friends dissipates by the time he arrives home. His parents are sitting in the living room, watching a TV drama, and he gives them a short greeting but doesn't stop, heading straight to his room where he flops face first on the bed.

He wonders what Joonmyun is doing right now. Has he been eating? Sleeping? Zitao bets that with him gone, with no one to nag him, that all he's been doing is work. Has Joonmyun thought about him? Does he miss him too? Zitao's eyes burn and he presses his face harder into his pillow. Who is he kidding. Joonmyun probably hasn't thought about him at all. With Zitao gone, he's free to do whatever he wants. 

There's a sharp knock on his door and then the sound of it opening. 

Zitao can tell it's his dad, because he doesn't say anything when he enters the room, just sits quietly on the bed and waits. Zitao turns to face him, cracking an eye open. "Baba," he says, sitting up so he can give him a hug. 

His dad hugs him back, rubbing his back fondly, and Zitao can feel himself tearing up again. 

"Ahhh. Son. It's okay," his dad says. "It's okay." 

It's not thought, not at all. And after Zitao has calmed down a little, he tells his dad the whole story. 

Ever since he was a child, he's been in the habit of telling his dad practically everything. Even as an adult, he still messages him several times a day, giving him an update on what he's been doing - how his work is going, the songs he's written, what the weather's like in Seoul. 

He hasn't really updated him on what's been going on with Joonmyun though. It's been too difficult, the feelings too raw and fresh. 

His dad is quiet for a long, long time, and when he does speak, he doesn't say what Zitao is expecting. "How are you going to fix your marriage by running away to China?" 

Zitao is astounded. "What? But --" he stutters. "That's not --- What about Joonmyun? I've tried, and he --"

His dad interrupts, but he's patient, as he always is with Zitao. "I'm sure you think you have, but running away isn't going to help, is it?" 

"Baba!" Zitao whines. That is SO unfair. He HAS tried, he's been trying for such a long time, and he hasn't run away, he's come home because he missed his parents. And why is this HIS fault? He's not the one who's been distant, who've been working long hours, who's broken promise after promise.

"I mean," his dad continues, ignoring his petulant face, "If you're giving up, then you can move back here permanently. Your mum has wanted you to be closer for a long time, so it would be good for you to come home. I'm sure you could find a job here - the music industry isn't as well developed as in South Korea, but you could probably find something to do."

"I'm not giving up!"

His dad keeps talking, as if he hasn't said anything. "There's no shame in getting a divorce - marriage is hard. Your mum and I have been married for a long time and there's been many occasions that we've both wanted to end it. So I know how difficult it is and I don't blame you at all. I mean, if you don't love him anymore --"

"I do love him!"

"Oh?" His dad looks at him in surprise. "I just assumed, since you're here and --"

Zitao's filled with fire and anger. "I'm not giving up," he says, more firmly this time, and he's _sure_. He's going to drag Joonmyun back into this marriage if he has to use everything that he has. "Can you pass my laptop?" He needs to book his flight home. 

His dad hands it over, a little smile on his face, and Zitao doesn't even care that he's been played. He's _not_ giving up.

 

*

 

Despite his earlier fervor Zitao finds nervousness bubbling away in his stomach as he enters Joonmyun's offices. He sees Sunyoung first, sitting behind her desk, and she gives him a bright smile as he approaches. 

"How are you?" she asks. 

"Good - how are you? You've cut your hair!" he says. "It looks great on you." He reaches into his bag and hands her a small wrapped package. "This is for you - from China."

"Thank you! I didn't know you were in China… Oppa didn't mention it." Zitao doesn't bother telling her that he hadn't told him, and is also proud of himself for not asking her how he's been, insteading chatting to her about the latest news in her life. 

After a while, he gestures towards Joonmyun's closed door. "Is he free?" He'd specially timed his visit to the end of the day, when Joonmyun was likely to have finished all his meetings, and he's rewarded when Sunyoung nods. 

"Yup. Head in."

Zitao knocks briefly on the door but doesn't wait for a response before pushing it open. Joonmyun is behind his desk, frowning at something on his computer. He doesn't look up when Zitao enters. 

Zitao clears his throat. 

Finally Joonmyun's eyes shoot up, widening when he recognises Zitao. "Hi - hi!" He gets to his feet, chair rolling backwards to bounce off the back wall, half coming towards him but then stopping, as if he's not sure he's allowed. "I wasn't expecting you." 

"You look terrible," Zitao tells him honestly. Not that Joonmyun has ever been as obsessive about his appearance as Zitao is, but he's looking well below his standards, even for him. He looks like he hasn't slept in weeks, his skin sallow and dark rings underneath his eyes.

Still, Zitao's heart swells upon seeing him. He's _missed_ him. 

"You look great," Joonmyun tells him, voice soft. "You always do." It's not fair - he always does this - says the sweetest things to Zitao, and it's always disarming. 

They stare at one another for a while, until they both start to speak at the same time.

"I'm --"

"I --"

They fall into silence and Zitao waves his hands at him, "Stop, let me talk first." He looks down at the floor, and even though he _thinks_ he knows the answer, has known and loved Joonmyun for such a long time, he's also aware that nothing in life is for certain. Things change. So when he asks, "Do you still love me?" his voice breaks, and he keeps his eyes firmly on the ground. 

He's answered with Joonmyun rushing forward to him, gathering him up into a tight hug. "Of COURSE, oh my god, of course I do, how could you ever think otherwise? I love you so much." 

Zitao allows himself to be drawn in, to slump into Joonmyun's hold, slouching the way that Joonmyun always scolds him for. He's so relieved to hear him say it but at the same time, he needs more answers. "Then what's happened? You say you love me but I don't feel like I'm important to you anymore." 

Joonmyun looks suitably chastened. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what to say - how to make it better. You're right, I've been taking you for granted, and I'm sorry." 

"I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have run away." Zitao feels guilty about it, particularly now that he's seen how his absence has affected Joonmyun. "The whole Minho thing..." Zitao makes a face, even saying his name makes him feel bitter, "...was the last straw."

"There's nothing going on there. I swear it. On everything that I have, everyone I love. You have nothing to be worried about. I should've told you straight away - it's so stupid, I don't know why I didn't --" 

"I know. I believe you." He's never really thought that anything untoward was going on, knows that Joonmyun would never be capable of that. He'd just been hurt at the time, hurt at another sign that they had grown so far apart that Joonmyun couldn't be honest with him. "If we want this to work - we have to do better. Both of us," Zitao stresses. 

"Yes, yes, you're right. Does this mean you're coming home?"

When Zitao nods, Joonmyun gives him a relieved smile, and again he feels guilty for what he's put him through. It'd been necessary, and the time away has helped him realise that he's had a part to play in this. They're both to blame, and if they want to work, they both need to try. 

"Then let's go."

Zitao looks at him in surprise. "Right now? I'm sure you have more you need to do… I can see you there…"

Joonmyun looks around his office and then shrugs. "I can deal with it tomorrow. You're more important." 

Hearing those words makes Zitao's heart swell again. It's a start. 

 

*

 

There's nothing like sleeping in your own bed, the familiarity, the sense of comfort, and upon waking Zitao feels refreshed in a way he hasn't felt for ages. 

"Morning," Joonmyun whispers, stroking his hair. He's fully dressed, obviously about to go to work, but Zitao smiles up at him.

"Morning."

"I'm leaving now - I left you something on the table. I'll see you tonight, ok?"

"Okay," Zitao agrees with a yawn, and Joonmyun leans down to give him a quick kiss before he leaves. 

He rolls out of bed, trots to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth, and then makes his way to the living room. It'll be another couple of hours before he meets Jongdae, who he hasn't seen since he left for China, and he's looking forward to getting back to work. 

When he reaches the kitchen, he sees a coffee and a brown paper bag, the logo on the front indicating it's from the bakery down the road. Inside the bag is his favourite pastry, a caramelised layered sugary bread, still slightly warm and fresh from the oven. 

Joonmyun must've walked down to get it for him before he woke up. 

Zitao may be a romantic, but he's never needed big gestures or declarations. All he needs is this - the small things that tell him he's thought of, cared for, loved. They'd talked last night, properly, managing to clear the air between them without resorting to blame and accusation. For the first time in months, Zitao feels positive, that he's been heard, that Joonmyun has been heard, that they're both equally committed to this relationship. 

There's still a way to go, but they're heading in the right direction, and that - for now - is enough.


	2. Epilogue

"Baby, are you ready?"

Zitao is sitting cross legged on the floor in front of his open suitcase, and at Joonmyun's question he pouts. "No, I still don't know what to take! How am I meant to know what to pack if I don't know where we're going!"

Joonmyun has planned a trip away for Zitao's birthday, but he's refused to tell him the location. Zitao both loves and hates surprises - loves them because they're exciting and fun, but hates them in instances like now, where he doesn't know whether to pack warm or cold weather clothing. 

It hasn't helped that Joonmyun packed his own suitcase days ago, locking it up, and not allowing Zitao to look at the contents. 

"I told you, it doesn't matter. If you need anything we can always buy it. Just make sure you have your passport." He looks pointedly at his watch. "You better hurry up - we're going to miss our flight."

"Fine, fine." Zitao does another quick survey of his suitcase and sighs, deciding it'll have to do. If they're actually flying - the passport might just be a trick to throw him off track - he hopes that Joonmyun has purchased enough luggage allowance because he's taken everything he can think of. A warm coat, scarf, gloves, swimming trunks, shorts, tank tops, sandals. Everything. 

When they're in the taxi, Zitao's excitement starts to build when Joonmyun requests the driver take them to the airport. There's only a handful of locations Zitao can go without a visa, and considering the choice of airport, he suspects he knows where that is. 

"Are we going to Qingdao?" he asks excitedly when they enter through the sliding doors. "It's Qingdao, isn't it?" 

Joonmyun shakes his head at him. "You'll find out soon."

It's Qingdao.

Zitao crows in excitement when they check in, and Joonmyun just gives him a fond, abet slightly exasperated, look when he shouts, "I knew it!" making everyone around them turn to look at them. 

"You don't know everything," he's told, and Joonmyun takes his hand to lead him away from the counter because he's too busy beaming at the check in officer and rhapsodising about his hometown. 

They spend a few days in Qingdao, staying with Zitao's parents, who're happy to see them and impressed with the progress of Joonmyun's Mandarin. Their days are happy and relaxed, the total opposite of the last time Zitao was there, and Joonmyun sticks to the agreement they'd made before they left - only checking his phone and email twice a day. He's learning to relinquish his control more - he has good staff and he can rely on them - and it makes them happier too, knowing that he trusts them to take care of things. 

But the day before Zitao's birthday, Joonmyun says to him, "Okay. Pack your stuff. We're going."

"What? But I thought we had more time before we head back?"

Joonmyun just gives him a secretive smile.

They spend Zitao's birthday in Dalian, a relaxed city on the Liaodong Peninsula with a beautiful coastline and lovely beaches. There's a lazy birthday brunch, followed by a birthday swim, some birthday shopping, and the day is topped off with birthday dinner. 

After dinner they walk back to their hotel. Zitao's flushed from the wine they'd had at dinner and from how special he's felt all day, and he swings Joonmyun's hand happily as they walk. 

When they're back in their room, Joonmyun asks, "Did you have a good birthday, baby?" as he presses a kiss to his neck, running his hands up Zitao's back to pull him closer. 

Zitao nods, breaths starting to come more heavily as Joonmyun's kisses move slowly and teasingly along his jawline. Zitao loves birthdays, loves the concept of having an entire day where everyone focuses on him, and this has been one of the best he's ever had. He still can't believe that Joonmyun managed to organise this whole trip - just for him. 

Joonmyun coaxes Zitao's lips open with his, slides his tongue in, slowly coaxing him backwards until the back of his knees hit the bed. "Lie down," he says, voice low, "I want to take care of you."

The look in his eyes makes Zitao shiver in anticipation and he sinks on to the bed obediently. 

Joonmyun undresses him slowly, gaze intense as if he's drinking in every inch of skin that's being exposed. When Zitao is bare, Joonmyun strips himself, and then climbs on to the bed between his legs. 

"Look at you," Joonmyun tells him, stroking his fingers up the firm line of Zitao's thighs. "You're gorgeous." Zitao whimpers when he presses a light kiss to the tip of his cock, opening his eyes to see Joonmyun gazing up at him in amusement. "You're so easy for me." 

"Don't tease me - it's my birthday," Zitao reminds him, a little petulantly, and Joonmyun laughs a little.

"Sorry, baby." Joonmyun follows his words by licking up his shaft, from the base to the tip, lapping at his precome already gathered at his slit. Zitao's wound up already, and when Joonmyun sucks the head in, he lets out a helpless moan. Joonmyun guides one of Zitao's hands to his hair, holds it there until Zitao grips it tightly, pulls off just to tell him, "C'mon baby, this is for you. Watch me."

Zitao watches, right into Joonmyun's eyes as he swallows his length down, bobbing his head up and down as his tongue swirls hot and wet, and it's too much, too fast. There's no more slow, there's no more teasing, Joonmyun knows exactly what to do to get Zitao off, and he's using everything that he has. Zitao's arousal sits heavily in his belly, building quickly under Joonmyun's talented mouth, every sensation amplified as he skates closer and closer to the edge. 

Zitao's body locks up as he comes, head thrown back and back arched, and Joonmyun keeps his mouth on him the whole time, sucking him clean. 

When Zitao manages to open his eyes, he finds Joonmyun hovering above him, his own cock, hard and heavy, in his cock. "Fuck, you're gorgeous," Joonmyun tells him as he strokes himself, hand twisting around his erection. 

Zitao licks his lips, says, " _Please_ ," opening his mouth, and Joonmyun's eyes darken. 

"You're too much," he tells him, but it's not an insult, not when he's moving further up his body and straddling his shoulders. Joonmyun presses the tip between Zitao's lips as he continues to jerk off, each movement making the head of his cock slap against Zitao's tongue. 

Zitao welcomes the warm, salty spurts when he finally comes, swallows it all and wants more. Joonmyun immediately dips down to kiss him, tasting himself in Zitao's mouth, and Zitao clutches at him. Joonmyun allows himself to be moved until they're curled together, lets Zitao cling to him as he murmurs quietly, "I love you. Hope you had a good day. I love you so much." 

Zitao doesn't have enough words inside him to express how much he loves this man, so filled with love for him that he could float into the forever of space. He holds him tightly, telling him in return, "I love you," even though the words seem meaningless compared to the emotion he feels, and he promises himself that he's never going to let go.


End file.
